Headwing Central (IC)

[Eli_In_Chains]

Welcome to the Succubus and Incubus Academy." These words had turned many a young Cubi's life upside-down. Blaine was only the latest one, and not even a particularly exceptional example. After all, he wasn't spectacularly upset by any of the recent events, having done his best to take them in stride...

Still... if I ever see that doctor again... He caught his heart starting to race, and looked down at his hands, claws digging into the fine finish on the cedar chest he was carrying through the halls to his dorm... apparently he would be sharing with another Cubi student. When he asked about what they were like, Fa'Lina had merely shrugged and offered up a response that had, at the time, not seemed particularly useful to Blaine... "Quiet." Now that he thought of it though, wasn't Fa'lina supposed to know most everything about what happened in her Academy? That was the gist of what he'd picked up from his father... so maybe she was hiding something? But what reason would she... Enough. You're thinking too much. It's not important, you're going to meet your roommate soon and get acquainted with them that way. Stop worrying, it won't do any good anyway.

He sighed and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to still his mind. It had been getting steadily more difficult to do so over the past few days, between feeling the chaotic eddies and swirls of the emotions flowing from those around him and hearing snippets and fragments of their thoughts. Especially when at least a couple were using repetitive thought-shields, providing a constant and predictable background hum of noise to send ripples across his mind... it was no wonder it was so difficult to keep as still and calm as he used to. Maybe he'd feel better after he'd dropped his things off and gone to the woodshop... assuming he could find it, that is. He stopped a moment in front of a door, looking around to try and find any indication that he was in the right place, before just trusting that he'd followed the directions properly and setting down the dome-topped chest he'd been carrying so he could knock properly.

"Hello? Is this... Tristan's room? Fa'Lina gave me directions but kind of left me to find it on my own, so..."

---

A loud crack pierced the air as Gideon blocked the blow to his nose with one wing, stretched forward and made hard as iron, before rushing his opponent and grabbing the side of their head, pulling back his elbow for a hard strike to their jaw. That would show them...

DONG!! The cheetah snarled, pulling his blow just before it landed on his opponent's face and glaring over at the man who rang the bell, before hopping over the ropes and grabbing his towel to mop up his sweat before plunking into a chair, leaning forward over the chessboard in front of him and surveying the board, watching his opponent waste time by letting his hand hover over... the black queen, before deciding against whatever move he'd been considering and capturing the bait of an obvious trap.

"Shame. You were doing so well, too. White wins in six... no, four moves. Or less." He clacked a pawn forward, threatening the queen his opponent had been considering moving. "Go on. You can always forfeit." He taunted, leaning back and waiting as his opponent realized there was no way to defend his piece... and that without it he would lose in the next couple of rounds. Gideon loved this part. "That is, unless you think you can call my bluff. I may just let you keep playing this game, after all, if you don't forfeit, because I haven't quite had enough of beating in your stupid little face." He leaned forward on his elbows, supporting his chin on interlaced fingers and watching intently as the younger Cubi rested his finger atop his king and slowly brought it down, knocking the king over in the symbol of forfeiture. Gideon grinned and stretched, yawning and wrapping his towel around his neck. "You weren't bad, though. Your fighting needs work, but you almost had me with that game of chess." He sighed and daubed at his forehead with the ends of his towel, heading over to the shower. He definitely had a few new bruises, but nothing too serious to handle, not like that time he'd rather overestimated himself and left the ring with three broken ribs--don't be such a baby... ribs grow back!--and a thoroughly shattered nose. Thankfully though, as a Cubi there were minimal signs of his prior injuries, even his nose having straightened out after a few years.

Hunh... hadn't Fa'Lina mentioned I have a new roommate arriving today...?  Knowing her she didn't give them a key... guess I better go let them in.

[Tapewolf]

Niall read through the assignment one more time, and then put it back in his folder.  Everything seemed to be in order, the neat typing marred only by a faint bulge on the paper where he'd made a mistake.  The fox incubus knew enough magic to be able to suck the ink away from the paper, but he still hadn't found a way to flatten it back out and with a good eye you could still make out the shape of the errant letter where the typebar had depressed it.

No matter, he thought.  They're grading on the material, not the typing skills.

As he slipped the paper back into a folder in his satchel and warded it, the clock on his desk struck quarter to.  Niall glanced up with a start as he remembered that Fa'Lina had mentioned the new room-mate.  Part of him sighed, he had perhaps become too used to having the entire room to himself after Reuben graduated.

An impish grin spread over his face, and he removed his shirt, choosing instead a pair of arm-sleeves that went well with his leather jeans.  Better give them a Daryil Clan welcome, he thought and lounged on the bed in a seductive manner, waiting for the new student to arrive.

[Kafzeil]

Roxanne opened the door to her dorm, grinning like the Cheshire Cat as she drop the package on the table. She had just gotten back from her lab, and was still dressed in a hospital scrub splashed with still-warm blood. the package she had just picked up from the campus post office. A Special order for fun and her class on improvised interrogation.

She checked around the dorm room. It was still hard for to imagine her old roomy had graduated. All those years together, the fun, the parties, the music... it was nice having her as a sorta of mentor when she was getting used to this whole Succubus thing, that's for sure.

Stil, the new one would be a first year! Now it was her turn to be the mentor, the big sister! This would be fun!

....Just where was the jerk anyways? Maybe that had gotten lost? Roxanne was tempted to check, but remembered Fa'Lina would tend them in the right direction. It must be nice being omniscient.

Grabbing a knife the corgi smiled, giggling as she cut the box open and removed the first item from the styrofoam, cringing a bit from the noise (Though it did give her an idea on psychological torture. She's check with her professors on the matter if somebody hadn't thought of using it first).

It was a portable belt sander. Nice! Roxanne imagine the damage this could do to someone's face, and how much they'd panic as the powered on device inched closer and loser to their vulnerable head...

She then yanked two more items from the box, a power drill and a ceramic tile cutter. She grinned, admiring the metal bits. So clean, so pristine...she'd do her damnedest to keep them this way after each use! Shiny metal bits had a nice psychological effect on the victim.

[Corgatha Taldorthar]

Horethen checked himself one last time as he stood bathed in the eerie cyan light from the teleporter his clan had hastily assembled. Many changes of clothes, mostly billowing silk, ink, vellum, two daggers, one at his belt and the other tied to a string kept around his neck and hidden by his heavy bronze amulet that concealed his clan mark, the little fat man figurine that his Speaker had given him, everything seemed to be in place. He turned to his left, saw the stocky pig Being smiling through tears. He nodded ever so slightly to the man that had been his left hand for almost twoscore decades, now grey in service and with children of his own almost ready to take up the cord. It was hard, and unfair, but he could not take the man with him, and could only seek assurances from within his own clan that the faithful retainer would be given the best care and the lightest duties possible.

A constant low-level shapeshifting was required to keep his fur from standing on end in the energy emitted by the portal, and he studied the swirling mass of energy for some omen of the future. Ahead to mystery, and behind disgrace if he failed his first task away from the clan before he had even properly started. All the same, he could not shake the the recitals of the now legendary clan founder, and how he was ambushed at feast by a rival clan, even their name expunged from history. Treachery and a lance of energy through the neck could slay any, and Horethen was still so young and weak to be walking into the unknown.

Foolishness, none have blood feud against us now. Biting his cheek at the cowardice, he plunged into the portal and fought panic at the disorientation that always accompanied teleporting. A twinkling of an instant later, and he was arrived.

The first surprise to register was the NOISE. The Clan-halls of Aldoraethar were almost always ghostly silent with only the faint pattering of feet in soft slippers to disturb the contemplative atmosphere. Talking was if not quite forbidden, so rare as to be cause for telepathic gossip. The oppressive walls of sound hemming in from every direction made Horethen realize his smallness in the academy, and a worried check of his mind-shield both helped him re-center and assured him that it was firm now but porous enough to take down for conversation. Many of the 'Cubi traversing the hallways were in various states of undress, often with only abbreviated costumes about the loins, although baldrics seemed to be fashionable. Horethen's billowing silk tunic, with shirtsleeves under it and fine, tough leather breeks tapering into his doeskin boots, made him feel positively overdressed.

His people had already sent ahead his class schedule and his affinities, so his first task was to report to his room and deposit his belongings. It occurred to Horethen that even though it was early morning where he left, he had no knowledge of this place's local time, and from what he understood, it was impossible to enter or leave the academy in a conventional manner. Without a sun in the sky, day and night probably had little meaning.

He spent close to two hours wandering, guided by vague signs until he found the room with the number that had been scribbled on his scrap of parchment. Asking for directions might have gotten him there sooner, but he needed to learn the lay of the academy in any event, so it was time well spent.

He knocked twice pre-emptorily on the wooden portal, before turning the latch and walking in. It was very likely that whomever occupied this room with him was in class at the moment anyway, so waiting for a response was to him a waste of time, and feeling for an individual over the frenzied buzz of the academy background was beyond his capabilities at the moment.

The room was spare, with a mirror, a couple of lapdesks, and assorted nick-nacks taking up a good chunk of the perimeter. There was also a large bed, with wooden beams that supported a canopy up against the ceiling. The bed was occupied by an open fox cubi, headwings (feathered) out, with a strong snout and wearing tight sleeves sans shirt, and leather jeans that made Horethen wonder how they kept circulation going. Dull grey fur that bespoke of Being ancestry somewhere close in the family tree, and Horethen fought down another moment of panic, given that the other was likely to expect him to speak with his mouth.

He turned away from his long regard, and started unpacking his things in the open space that was left him. It gave him a little edge of not having his face towards the other when he cautiously lowered his mind shield just long enough to send out a strong but stacatto burst of thought, sending mental images of fiery letters on a clay tablet, like all of his clan. "I am Horethen, of Aldoraethar. My own accomplishments are small, but I would be happy to regale you of some of the tales of our Clan, if you would hear them. I do not know you or your folk, could you pray help cure my ignorance?"

At the last of that, he had finished in at the least unloading the bundle off of his back, and turned to face the other if he wished to either speak or think at him.

[justacritic]

Kart Scubs scribbled furiously onto several pieces of paper. He needed to come up with a successful business strategy for a hypothetical situation. How to sell ice to the races that lived in the cold frigid territories. It was the classic scenario to classify a perfect salesman from all the rest. However even the best salesman would be useless even if he could sell if everything else, quality control, import fees, transportation costs and other factors that were beyond a salesman's ken were not dealt with. The panda took another long draught of coffee. Kart had been at this assignment for the better part of last night and to keep his mind on task, he drank this particular pot black and it burned on the tongue. Kart glanced at a calendar and remembered. Apparently he was going to be assigned a new roommate and the incubus had read that this cubi would be a first year. The panda stood up stretching out his limbs. "Better give whoever this is a warm welcome." he said to himself, the panda went and got the ingredients to brew a latte. Some first years came from troubled realizations that they were cubi and if they have any troubles before then they usually got it from the evaluations. Kart shook his head and waited for whoever his new roommate was to come in. He went back to his assignment, the incubus continued to scribble down a new idea, the use of shredded ice as a condiment. It was ridiculous like some things that his clan had but the panda was getting desperate.      

[AmberCross]

If Blaine were paying attention, he would notice a calm in the storm of emotions coming from the room he faced. As he knocked however, the door swung open automatically though not from any magic that Blaine could feel. Either the magic was subtle or the door just... did this. At least the hinges were oiled because the door did not creak as it drifted open to reveal the shadowy room with no lights on. Scratch that, there was one light source, a white spot on the ceiling that glowed softly. If Blaine were to summon up a light source, he would find a moderately sized room with black walls and deep blue accents. In between any decorations, white points sparkled the walls and ceiling in what would quickly be apparent as constellations. Shadows still steep the edges of the room, but no one seems to be home. Luckily the atmosphere seems more peaceful than creepy. Blaine's new roommate Tristan does not appear to be here.

OOC: Will get to where Tristan is and what he's up to later.

[Tapewolf]

Niall held his pose steady, grinning as the jaguar entered the room.  Kind of cute, he thought, and then chided himself.  That kind of relationship with your roomie isn't the best idea anyway.

His headwings fluttered slightly as the incubus entered, giving him only a cursory glance and then immediately began unpacking in dead silence.  No-one's done that before, he thought.

When the feline had finished, he turned back to face the fox, and said... nothing.

"See something you like...?" Niall purred suggestively, biting back the urge to laugh at the jaguar's expression with considerable difficulty.

[Eli_In_Chains]

BLAINE:

The fox raised an eyebrow as he stared into the apparently empty room, swishing his tail a bit before double checking mentally the directions he had been given. Maybe he'd missed a left in that big hall... But this looked like the right place, regardless of how dark and empty it was. "Right, that isn't weird at all..." He muttered under his breath as he bent down and picked up his chest, the cedar box rattling a little. Unlike some, Blaine's priorities were on his tools, not his clutching, so he had brought the majority of his hand plane collection. The power tools, what few his shop was equipped with that is, were left to the guild... Inside, he looked around for a bed. Or more accurately, two beds. He assumed if he was being asked to room with someone he wouldn't be expected to share a bed... Though, he supposed that might have been an outdated idea he had picked up from living with beings most of his life. He really had no idea whether that would even be an issue with this Tristan. So far, the Cubi he'd met had been all across the board as far as personality...

[VAE]

As it often is, Kallis's first significant experience with SAIA was a feeling of acute nausea, probably caused by travelling God knows how many miles with the aid of a warp-aci that wasn't even hers to boot.
The cat grabbed a hold of a massive marble pillar in the ingress hall, one of the few places not completely warded from dimensional travel, and pressed her forehead onto its (probably filthy and  enveloped by unsanitary miasma, as she realized moments later)  surface until the world stopped spinning.
Luggage!
A wing-tentacle of hers snatched the handle of an ornately studded leather suitcase and slid it forth with minimal resistance. No wonder - a small slotted forcefield around the lower perimeter with a carefully directed heat generating spell caused it to hover on a cushion of air about an eighth of an inch thick, provided the surface was reasonably flat.
At times, Kallis pondered whether wheels would have been a more practical solution, but then, this required less maintenance, could be turned on and off with the blink of an eye, and besides, this sort of clever artifice did wonders to convey one's status.

She opened her eyes again, and looked around the hall.
It's huuge...
Not quite the size of even the central hall of the old Basileum, (or Imperial Palace, whatever name one might prefer) , mind you - a building that once seated the draconic governor of the whole gubernia, its marble towers damaged by the civil war that marked the fall of the Imperium raising from the middle of the city like a battered crown on an old monarch's head..... but.
But.
This was just the lobby. And it seemed rather full, with a frenetic buzz about as bad as the Port Oriss's central market, albeit with less people, and perhaps not so many rotten fish.
There were demons, mythos, but mostly cubi, with dresses ranging from much like her own (she opted for a dark green dress and an aquamarine robe rimmed with silver thread), to ornate armours on one side, and... Urgh... how can she put that on? A being  wouldn't....
The cat shook, and one of her tentacles reached into an inside pocket, retrieving a small, folded letter.  She spread it open.
Allright.. so that should be where to find this Dr. Ink... I s'ppose with some here, they do have to check us for fleas and lice..

* * *

.. so the arrival wasn't the worst part.
Kallis shuddered and groomed her fur frantically, in her newfound knowledge of having no trace of affinity for love, pain, lust, confusion or terror.  She apparently did have a thing for anger on the side of her usual clan's favourites (pride and drive) though , so one could probably call the whole mess even.
Strolling through the long, twisty halls of what was supposedly the student habitations segment, and periodically checking the small annotated map, she finally found the door to her new home, standing as sturdy oaken door are wont to do, in the second half of the hallway, with a number, a knocker, a handle, and ...
The fresh traces of blood wouldn't be worrying. It was the fact that they were there despite the place decidedly not being a slaughterhouse, or a duelling hall, and the presence of the curious smell usually reserved for the laboratories of those dabbling in the dark arts of anatomy and necromancy.
Her mind stretched like a string, the hapless feline ordered her luggage to rest, took out a ragged handkerchief, tore it in half, and simultaneously knocked and opened the door.
"I... come in peace. Sorceress Kallis Ja'Krath of Clan Ja'Krath, if I may."

[Meany]

The city was covered in fog coming down from the inland sea.  Dosve's last official act had been to declare it unsafe for the fishing boats to go out until it cleared.  What a decidedly undignified way to go, he concluded.  The servants were standing awkwardly while their master dressed himself, affixed the steel cap to his stump once more, and gathered the essentials.  They had not yet grasped that Dosve was no longer the Dictator, and his daughter had not seen fit to enforce the regime change yet; never mind that she hadn't even properly arrived in the city yet- she was still with her mother's family in Kurzmouth until Dosve had left from Donya.

But while they still believed they had to obey his word... "Leave me," he said to them, unemotional and imperious.  "Lock the door, and inform my successor that if she wishes to use this room she will figure out how to open the door without the key."  The minions were already filing out as he spake.  The door was magicked to the nth degree; his daughter would need to be clever to get in.  And if she did, Dosve would give her praise- perhaps the first bit of praise he had ever given her since her birth.

Once the door was locked, Dosve fanned one wing outward.  The candles and crystals that were this room's source of light gently went out.  Hobbling with his crutch to the wheelchair his youngest son had crafted for him-without expecting praise which had in turn earned him some.  Then Dosve created a portal; a simple process starting with an explosion of energy that was slowed down and then stabilized.

---

Dosve admitted to himself, as he rolled briskly through the halls of the SAIA, that he must look terribly pathetic.  A warrior, a king-former king, he reminded himself, reduced to the state of an invalid by some two-bit Being with more greed than brains.  The other students gave him a wide berth, as well as confused looks.  He hated that.

His class registry was many decades old, and at least two professors had changed in that time, so he spent time stopping at the administrative offices to get an updated list.  A visit to Doctor Ink would be put off for the longest time possible.  He was in no medical crisis, and the best curse-breakers on the planet were already working to resolve his infirmity.

Then a problem manifested itself.  The dormitory assigned to him was locked, Dosve did not have the key, and his room mate, if he had one, was not at home.  He remembered there being a trick to opening the door without the key, but he could not recall specifics.   So Dosve spent a while just looking at the lock.  Surely it wouldn't be a mundane lock when the entire student body could shapeshift their fingers into keys...but Fa'Lina would know immediately if such things happened.  One primary feather from his left wing lengthened, then narrowed, snaking its way to the door, to press into the lock, take the shape of the key, and try turning.

[LionHeart]

Mira shuffled her way through the halls, towing a large suitcase on wheels, and trying very hard not to think about the "evaluation" that she had recently been through. If she never had to interact with that Dr. Ink again, she decided, it would be about fifteen minutes too soon. Maybe twenty minutes... The shuffling was partly due to her nervousness, but mostly due to the long tight white skirt she had chosen to wear (it was based on something she had read about, called a "mermaid skirt", but she couldn't help feeling that she had somehow made it just a bit too tight. Note to self - alter this skirt to give a bit more stride room...), and combined with her multicoloured halter (painstakingly sewn from an array of different coloured canvas belts) made her look rather like an animated fishing lure. In one hand was a slip of paper from the fortune cookie Fa'Lina had given her (she'd eaten the fortune cookie - it had been very nice), bearing the words "Your room-mate is named Kart Scubs", and a room number.

"Ah ha, finally!" burst from her mouth as she reached the room whose number matched that of the slip of paper. She paused for a moment, adjusting her clothing, then knocked, and swung the door open. There was a panda in a suit (a male room-mate? Oh, well, Grandma had warned her...), bent over an array of papers, a mug of coffee next to him. Judging by the smell of coffee in the room, it seemed likely that he had been at it for quite some time.

Mira cleared her throat, and put on her best friendly smile. "Excuse me? Are you Kart Scubs? 'Cause if you are, then I'm your new room-mate."

[Eli_In_Chains]

Gideon coughed a bit, clearing his throat behind the invalid trying to open the door with a poor facsimile of a key. "Please. Surely you know better than that. In a university where lockpicking courses are taught, you -really- think that's going to work?" He reached into his pocket, pulling out the room key and holding it up before edging around the wheelchair and unlocking the door. "I was expecting a roommate, but I had thought he would be a bit more... complete." The cheetah mused idly as he walked by, tossing the keys haphazardly onto a shelf. "So what's with the leg? Waiting for it to grow back? That can be a bitch, there was this first year that I knew a decade or two back that pissed off one of the senior students. Nearly got himself beaten to death with his own arm." The felid flicked his tail side to side, arms crossed over his chest as he looked his new roomie over. Fashion sense, general demeanor, and clan mark all indicated he wasn't an ordinary first year: he was well over a hundred years old, at least. Either back for further studies after a prior graduation, or else he had, for whatever reason, not attended SAIA earlier in life. Strange.

But, not his business anyway. He extended a paw to Dosve, and a smile. "Name's Gideon Owona. Nice to meet you."

[Corgatha Taldorthar]

Horethen blinked twice, face openly wearing shock, at the other 'Cubi's odd reply. Could he not read minds? Surely even a half-breed could manage such.


Taking great care to lower his mind-shield, he again projected his thoughts in a focused burst at the other. "I am Horethen Aldoraethar. I find it vulgar to speak as the lesser Creatures do, and I was not permitted the accompaniment of my Speaker. I am new here, and apologize if my ways are offensive. Is it customary in this place for new acquaintances to bond over sex? I do not understand the reason for your manner otherwise."

Worried that the other might not understand him, he did not immediately re-raise his mind shield at the close of the message, but stood ready to repeat it, "louder" if need be, until he was understood.

[justacritic]

The panda looked up and saw that his new room mate was a girl... Really sometimes Fa'Lina's judgment was rather... questionable at times, a female and male, this could bring trouble. It did not do to take it out on people who had no fault though so Kart let out a smile "Ah welcome yes and it seems as if I will be your roommate for as long at this state of affairs holds. Please sit down." The incubus took on a thoughtful look, it seemed as if the clothing of the succubus was disheveled even with attempts to straighten it. "I trust that you have paid a visit to Dr. Ink?" The panda sat up and prepared a latte and asked if she would like cream and sugar, laying down the drink in front of her. "As you have stated I am Kart Scubs of Clan G'ian. May I have the pleasure of hearing your introduction? I am sure we have much to discuss about our living arrangements." Kart took on a calm diplomatic look. 

[Meany]

Excellent timing.  "It is better to try and to fail than to never try at all."  A philosophy that Dosve didn't wholly agree with, but it fit the situation.  He smoothly rolled out of the feline's way, and then into the room after him.  The door closed behind Dosve, pulled so by a tentacle.  "I'm afraid it's a cursed wound.  I must wait for the curse-breakers to find a counter to it."  Dosve examined his new compatriot.  Hmm, a warrior.  They would most likely get along well, then.  Especially given the boy was from Owona's line.  The dog met the hand and gave it a firm shake.  "Dosve Donya Piflak."  The dog's wings spread out, and his belongings flew through the air to the empty spaces in the room meant to be left for a new arrival.  "I'm going into Artifice, what about you?"

[AmberCross]

Forget two beds, Blaine would not be able to find even one in this room without being terribly creative. There were several very comfortable looking armchairs the perfect size for curling up in and several bookshelves filled with random books around, but nothing that looked remotely like a bed. Further searching would show that the room was essentially designed to look like outside at night from some place you might be able to identify if you knew a lot of astronomy with a nice setup for reading by moonlight (if Blaine were to pull a book or two out, he would find them very easy to read despite the lack of bright light), but no amount of searching would turn up another person in that room. Whoever, whatever, and whereever Tristan was, he did not seem to be here.

Meanwhile at the library...

Off towards the back of the library and a few shelves up, Tristan sat against a wall with one leg dangling over the edge of of the bookshelf with his wings hanging loose to either side ready to flex in case he needed to restore upset balance. In front of lay open a book on the history of some country or other long gone in some obscure language while in the air next to him floated a few more books of reference; one on the relevant language, one a translated version, one a theoretical suggestion of lost mysteries, and one a book of fiction that he had been reading and was now cross referencing for accuracy.

After a certain point he abruptly sat up straighter, almost losing his balance a moment, before looking from the fictional work to the historical text and back a few times before smiling. 'I knew there was something fishy about that part! King George died BEFORE the revolution began so they couldn't have executed him at the end of it,' he thought happily, closing his various reference books and turning back to the work of fiction to continue reading. Before he got halfway through the next page however a murky green tentacle shot into his vision and snagged the book away from him.

"Oolong!" Tristan exclaimed in consternation, perhaps a bit too loudly for a library, but rather quiet for a conversation. "I was reading that!" he continued with a slight frown. A head at the end of another tentacle snaked forward to look at him. Yes, the head said in a voice that echoed emptily as if coming from everywhere at once and at the same time from nowhere at all. You were. But now you're not. You can finish later, but Fa'lina has asked me to remind you that you have a new roommate arriving today and you need to go meet him.

Tristan's slight frown deepened into a more full version. "Oh... right." He had completely forgotten about that. Or rather he remembered but could have sworn it wasn't until a few days from now. Actually for that matter, what day WAS it? Tristan made a sign with his left hand and a few symbols popped up above it. Tristan read them in alarm, jumping off the shelf extending several tentacles from his wings to lengthen the impact, softening his landing. "Ah fluffernutters, I'm late!" he swore as he dashed out the library entrance and right into an outstretched pink arm.

Groaning slightly from the ground just in front of the library doors, he looked up at the headmistress of the school who was shaking a finger back and forth while 'tsk, tsking' before walking off. She didn't really say anything and she really didn't have to as Tristan mentally kicked himself for falling into her trap. Most students ran often enough that her warnings were close enough together for them to remember to not run in the hallways, but Tristan didn't run very often so he'd always forget about this habit of hers when he did and he was certain she took delight in catching him over and over again. Picking himself up off the ground, he set off again, this time at a brisk walk. Well he was definitely late and getting later, but his new roommate would just have to wait a bit longer.

[Eli_In_Chains]

Blaine had given up finding the bed in the room and simply tucked his trunk into a corner, sighing and looking around the dark room. Books... lots of books. Guess he knew what "Quiet" was supposed to mean. Well, he didn't mind sharing a room with a bookworm. They'd probably be mostly out of his way... absorbed in study... busy with whatever it is academics were prone to doing. He settled into one of the chairs in the room and leaned back, suddenly noticing it felt a lot quieter in this room than it did outside. He was able to keep his mind clear much more easily. Yes, perhaps this would be a very good thing... He wrapped his wings around his body to keep warm and, having had a very long and tiring day--seriously, screw Dr. Ink--resolved to fall asleep for now. If it turned out he was in the wrong room, he'd just have to explain himself. These Cubi seemed reasonable enough people, rather contrary to what society at large believed though his father had always been very tolerant of Creatures. Which, as Blaine thought about it, made complete sense now that he knew more about his dad. He wondered how the city had explained his sudden disappearance to the Guild... he wasn't a prominent figure by any means, but he was still a journeyman carpenter. People knew his name. They'd notice he and his father had vanished without a trace. So were they in on it, too? Or was the city just going to cover it up? Was he dead as far as his hometown was concerned...? Well, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. It was as though he intended to return anytime soon. There was much he could learn at SAIA, even just in woodworking. And he wouldn't only be studying that, either; the shielding class seemed promising. Maybe he would finally enroll in some magic classes. He'd wanted to as a child, but his father hadn't let him. Probably so that his clan marking wouldn't come in. Well, it had shown up as a result of his own experimentation as a teen, anyway, with no-one the wiser... no harm done...

His thoughts continued along such a rambling trail until eventually, they slowed down and diverged so far from the original thought process that he couldn't be bothered to keep track of them anymore, and he slowly slipped into sleep.

---

"Dosve, huh? Weird name. Never heard that one before..." Gideon shrugged and walked over to his bed, flopping onto it with his hands behind his head. "I'm studying to be an adventurer. Or an adventurer-slayer, depending." He shrugged and looked up at the ceiling. "Whichever it turns out to be. Combat skills, mostly. I assume you're studying magic for the most part, then?" He glanced over at a chessboard nearby, narrowing his eyes at the game in progress between himself... and... well... himself, at the moment. "Tricky stuff that. I've never been fond of it... I like to stick to the basics. When I want something done, I hit it in the face until it's done. ...I guess that usually works for me because most of what I want done is knocking people out." That was, predictably, a gross exaggeration, but not wholly untrue... he wasn't the brute he was portraying himself as, but he didn't mind Dosve thinking that.

---

Matthias grinned and bounced up and down, his floppy ears following suit as he waited for his roommate. He was looking forward to being the older roommate for once! Being taken seriously! ...not that he thought that would last for too long, though. Most people didn't really take him seriously for more than a couple minutes. He clasped his hands eagerly, looking around the room to make sure everything was prepared properly to welcome his new roomie. All the lights were out, good... an obscure arcane ritual circle had been scribbled on the floor, along with what looked very much like blood (but smelled like paint considering that's what it really was) splattered on the walls and floor, and many black candles lining the room and placed at seemingly strategic points within the circle. An enormous open book which, in the dim lighting, you couldn't tell was just a faded old dictionary, and some seemingly arcane props strewn around for good measure, with a prop knife he'd grabbed on his way out of a theater class earlier in the week for just this purpose. And now his roommate would be here any minute and he was so EXCITED and he couldn't WAIT for them to get here and be absolutely terrified! Of course, failing all this, he could always pull the cord connected to the bucket of ice water hanging just inside the doorway, but... that was a last resort. He picked up the prop knife and knelt behind the "grimoire", swathed in black robes (his bedsheets magically altered for effect), and did his best to summon up some patience. Being as excitable as he was, that was... something of a feat.

[LionHeart]

Mira accepted the invitation, and the latte - she refused the cream, but did put in three spoons of sugar, before sipping at it cautiously. "Wow, that's really good!" she exclaimed, inadvertently broadcasting her pleasure as her shields wavered for a moment. "You're really good at this - you must have been doing it for a while, not too many people seem to know how to make a decent latte in Zinvith, this is the best I've tried in some time..."

The toast-coloured feline halted herself in mid-spate, and gave the panda a sheepish look. "Sorry. I have a bit of a case of 'runaway mouth' sometimes, especially if I'm in a situation where I'm in a completely new environment like now and surrounded by unfamiliar people, and coming from Zinvith that's saying something, and I'm doing it again aren't I..." This time, Mira put her drink down and put both hands over her mouth, then closed her eyes and forced herself to take several deep breaths, before opening them again. Way to make a first impression there, Mira, she scolded herself mentally, not realising that she had broadcast this thought to the room. Now he thinks you're a motor-mouthed airhead...

"Sorry again. Introductions, right... I'm Mira Whalen, of Clan Di'Tharn. As I said, I'm from Zinvith, where I grew up. I only discovered that I was a Cubi about two weeks ago, when my headwings popped up. My grandmother -" an image of a cougar Succubus, who looked to be in her forties (and looked not unlike an older version of Mira, although less flamboyantly dressed) seeped through her mind-shield "- gave me some basic instruction on things like hiding my headwings, and what it means to be a Cubi, and then sent me here to learn more."

[AmberCross]

It wasn't long before Tristan made his way back to his room. He activated the 'unlock' sigil only to realize he had forgotten to lock his room in the first place again. As he pushed open the door and looked around he mentally winced as he realized the constellations were all out of place and... really just wrong. Calliope was supposed to be further to the east and... well... not flirting heavily with a horse that wasn't even a constellation to begin with and the Krellian Demon shouldn't be making lewd, suggestive gestures at her father who had in mythology banished her from his household meaning they shouldn't even be in the same sky together in the first place. This was going to take a while to fix back to how it should be, though he made a point of locking the wards this time. Honestly, sometimes being part of clan Dimanika could be quite a pain.

Still, that was something to do later. The upswing of forgetting to set the locks on his wards were that his new roommate hadn't had to wait in the hallway, even if he had fallen asleep. Tristan took the opportunity to observe his new roommate in peace. A fox, unfamiliar clan signal (not that that meant much), golden coloring, black markings, same length hair as him, overall kind of cute, perhaps a bit young, but not too much so. Still, that wasn't something he would be looking into until he actually knew the fellow better. Plus there was the fact that they would be roommates to consider, but that could actually work out sometimes.

Still, all of this was physical stuff and Tristan never let himself make proper judgements on people until he knew a bit about their personality which could only be learned by watching them do stuff. Although... he (Blaine he seemed to recall) was asleep... and had fairly shoddy mindshields being new to the whole thing. It would not be that hard to slip past them and look into his dreams and that was the best way to meet people because they usually didn't realize they were meeting you. Plus dreams were just interesting to watch when you don't dream yourself anymore. Of all the things about being young, dreams were what he missed the most.

And so Tristan decided to weave his way through Blaine's sleep to watch his dreams and learn what kind of person he was. Depending on what he saw, he may even introduce himself, though probably still in the dream since he recalled people new to being a cubi still needed lots of sleep and he didn't want to wake him up if he needed sleep. In fact, sleeping in a chair like that was probably uncomfortable (even though Tristan himself had done it a few times and knew it wasn't so bad) so as an after thought he pulled one of the bookshelves off the wall where it unfolded to reveal a bed (the books kept on the shelves because they rotated. or maybe it was magic. who knows?) which he levitated Blaine into (keeping him asleep with a fairly simple charm) before sitting in a chair himself and slipping into Blaine's dreams to see what he would find.

[Eli_In_Chains]

Blaine carefully sighted down the length of a board, holding it up to the desert sun to check the warp before grabbing a jointer plane from the empty shelf beside him and starting on getting the edge flat so he could glue it properly. Translucently thin shavings of wood peeled off the surface of the board as he worked, the hot sun slowly fading as he became so absorbed in his task that his surroundings were falling into abyss, as he took no notice. His mind was clear, so clear that he didn't recognize that he was preparing a board for gluing... without a second board to glue it to. By the time he recognized this fact, he had forgotten where he was, and the scenery seamlessly reconstructed itself around him, finding himself in a forest.

"--with this herring!" The fox swished his tail to the side as he looked around the forest. Where am I...? The leaves rustled, he took the herring, and started to walk. That's right... Something about a shrubbery, if I'm not mistaken. Where would I find a shrubbery...? And what's the herring for, food? He shook his head, not entirely certain what was going on but not yet aware enough to question reality itself, and continued walking, the forest falling apart behind him as he walked unawares towards where he somehow knew there was a town.

[AmberCross]

OOC: coordinated between Eli and myself

As Blaine reaches the town, tumbleweeds roll past as Tristan steps out of a saloon into the street ahead of him, the both of them suddenly wearing trenchcoats and low brim hats. They hold their twitching fingers above their holsters as the noon sun shines brightly above them. Suddenly at some unspoken signal, they each quickly draw their herrings and shoot them at each other, the beta fish clashing in midair where they begin to violently thumb wrestle.

Suddenly the saloon doors slam open and Blaine wakes up in the chair he fell asleep in to see a ferret walk in. Seeing that the fox is awake, Tristan reaches over to the side of the door and slides his fingers up on the wall filtering the night sky into apparent daytime with a sun shining overhead and clouds drifting by on the ceiling with a light breeze blowing through. In the brighter light, it's apparent that Tristan is a ferret incubus with a mix between dusky blue with mixes of gray, black, and white with all his wings out.

"Oh... Tristan, I hope? I do hope I haven't fallen asleep in the wrong room..." Blaine said. Polite, well that was good Tristan mused. "Yes, you're in the right room. My apologies for being late. I trust there weren't any problems?"

"No, no problems... you always leave the door unlocked?" Blaine rubbed his eyes and sat up a bit. Tristan visibly winced. "Umm... more often than I should. I'll show you how to operate the locks and lights and stuff later, but for now I just wanted to meet you and say hi."

"It's good to meet you, Tristan. You're... less quiet than Fa'Lina led me on to believe. Then again, I guess a one-word description isn't much to go on..."

"Oh yes, I'm normally more shy than this, but am trying to make an exception since you're my roommate. Plus I'm not sure this really counts." Tristan goes over to a bookshelf (the same one Blaine is sleeping in back in reality) and pulls it down into a bed. "Also, if you're going to sleep you should probably do it in a proper bed."

"Doesn't... count? How so?" Blaine cocked his head, rubbing his eyes again and shaking his head, unable to quite clear the fogginess of sleep from his mind.

Blaine blinked slowly, feeling the world around him start to shake every time his eyes closed. Yes, that was... quite a good idea. "It's strange... usually I'm a very light sleeper..." He murmured, standing slowly and walking over to the bed.

Tristan helped him get settled in and headed over to the door as he replied, "As for why this doesn't count? It's the same reason you're feeling so tired. We're not really talking right now. You're still asleep." And on that last sentence, he flicked his fingers down the wall plunching the daytime sky into a starry night as he himself disappeared into a constellation of stars which exploded into pieces dashing the coherency of the room around Blaine into chaos with him in the bed as the epicenter of the storm.

"...Oh." Blaine muttered. "Well then," he stated as even that last bit of sanity fled and he fell back into regular dreaming while Tristan exited the dream, savoring the flavor of sudden understanding that resulted. Even if the rest of his dreams faded, Blaine should be able to at least vaguely recall that meeting which dealt with introductions and would even explain where the bed came from. In fact, if he timed it right, Tristan may even be around for when Blaine woke up and started trying to figure out if that actually had been a dream or not. Maybe having a roommate wouldn't be so bad after all...

[Tapewolf]

The look of shock on his room-mate's face was too much for Niall and he collapsed into helpless laughter.

"Sorry," he gasped.  "If you could just see yourself..."

With some difficulty he managed to control himself and sat upon the end of the bed.  "Niall Daryil," he said, extending a hand, and taking the time to look over the panther in more detail, trying to figure out his approximate age.

"You... you do speak the Common Tongue, right...?" he said, slightly concerned at the silence.  If he can't, thought-reading won't work either.  Dammit, Fa'Lina, have you given me a broken roomie?

"Oh, wait... of course, new 'Cubi," he said, and lowered his mental filter slightly.  "Thought-reading is a nice novelty," he said, "and it can be handy at times.  But it's considered rude to use it too much.  Creates a lot of practical problems, too."

[justacritic]

Kart nodded his head "Very good then so you at least know some things about your heritage, now then to business. We are going to be roommates for the foreseeable future and this with the added fact that the headmistress requires a co-op existence between us, we should set up some ground rules between us right now to avoid any arguments." The panda set aside his assignment and took another clean sheet of paper. "Now then do you have any suggestions for rules between us?"

[Eli_In_Chains]

Blaine, once more lost in his dreams, rolled over in the bed, the movement jostling his brain just enough to bring him back to some semblance of consciousness. Finding himself without explanation in an unfamiliar bed, he opened his eyes to try and gain some insight into his situation, the circumstances in which he had gone to sleep still distant to his half-asleep mind. Empty room. Comfortable bed. Guess if I got drink let night, I didn't go home with anybody. But in that case, why am I... Oh... SAIA. That's right... There was that blue ferret... Or was that a dream? No, I hasn't been in bed... In fact, I didn't think there were beds. Blaine sighed and sat up, putting a hand to his head. Too much thinking. He would be fine. He supposed that he'd really met Tristan, but had drifted off while talking to him and the dream has just intermingled with reality. It was, honestly, not that uncommon a situation for him to be in. Well... He supposed he had better find out how long he had slept. He was pretty sure he wouldn't be in classes for another day, but it always paid to make sure. Never act on an assumption without planning for the off chance you're wrong. It was a useful idea in more than just joinery. The fox stood, cracking his spine and stretching his wings before heading over to the door. If there was a clock in the room, he didn't see it... So he would have to look outside for one. And what time had it been when he went to sleep, anyway? Morning, afternoon, the dead of night? Bring indoors like this, unable to see the sun, that was something he'd have to get used to.

[AmberCross]

Well that was more disappointing than Tristan had hoped. There had only been a moment of confusion before his new roommate had suddenly dismissed the it somehow or other. This could be more of a challenge than anticipated, but if there was one thing he was not short on, it was time. So Tristan finished the passage in the book he reading (the sequel to the one from the library which he had finished by now after dropping by the chess club) and opened the door just before Blaine did coming face to face with him.

"Oh!" Tristan said, as if surprised. "You're up! I trust you slept well. Since we're both here, did you have any questions about classes, layout, people, etc?"

[Meany]

Dosve knew better than to take an Owona at his word.  The Shadow Clan's information manipulation specialty was well-known to him; he had hired them on more than one occasion for the purpose of propaganda.  "Well then, perhaps I could make you a magic item to help you out later on.  Perhaps some weapon, or armor, or a magical space to hide the bodies."  Schematics were already going through his head; simple things at the moment, but in a week or so Dosve was confident he could begin to actually put them to paper.  Then he noticed the boy paying attention to a chessboard frozen in the middle of a game.  "You play chess?"  Dosve never cared for the game.  It certainly had nothing to do with his inability to actually -win- a match in his younger years.  No, not at all.  The dog finished decorating his portions of the room with a bronze-metal box in which a red rhomboid gem floated, slowly rotating; Dosve left the box open so that the gem could catch the light.

[Eli_In_Chains]

Blaine stopped short as he saw the door open just as he arrived there, smiling down at Tristan. Interesting timing. Coincidence? It would be easy as a Cubi to be aware of when I woke, but that's hardly evidence. Suppose it's not important one way or another, though. "Ah, Tristan, I take it? Forgive me if this sounds strange, but I have met you before, right?" He reached up and ran a paw through his hair, which was still down and quite straggly by now, after the ordeal involving the horrid doctor had somehow ruined his ponytail. "It's just that I think I was half-asleep at the time, so, well." The fox widened his smile apologetically before stepping back to let Tristan in.

"I think I'll be quite able to figure the layout out myself, at least so long as it's less confusing than the headmistress, so I suppose my primary question would have to be 'What time is it?' D'you by any chance know? I didn't see a clock in here..."

---

Gideon grunted an affirmative as he sat up and walked over to the board, narrowing his eyes at it before moving a black knight to threaten the white king and a bishop at once. The move offered a tradeoff to white, either protect the bishop by sacrificing a solid defense around the king to capture the black knight with a rook, or else sacrifice the bishop by fleeing the check. Being that he was playing against himself, he ultimately knew the choice he would make, but for now he would consider possible alternatives. "Yeah. I'm not great, but when it's between rounds of full-contact bareknuckles sparring, I have a pretty good win rate. Guess the other guys find it hard to think after getting their jaw broken."

[AmberCross]

Woah, Blaine was tall. Tristan hadn't noticed that earlier while Blaine had actually been asleep. Between that and his running his hand through his hair, Tristan once more found himself thinking thoughts best not thought. Blaine after all had quite enough on his plate to be sure and Tristan was glad he kept his shields tight. "Ye.. yes," he managed to get out, stammering slightly. "We met last night. Though..." Tristan collected his resolve again internally smirking a bit. "You weren't exactly what I would call awake. I'm not surprised it seems fuzzy."

Tristan stepped inside as Blaine continued and replied, "Of course I keep a clock in here. It's..." Tristan squinted slightly at the wall behind to where the Maid of Callendre was blowing a wet raspberry at him. "Oh... right. Sorry, my clock is broken right now." He sighed and started editting his wallpaper to fix the night sky, relative positions first... he could rotate it to match the time and coordinates later. "So, not sure what time it is. Morning I think. When you don't eat or sleep, losing track of time is pretty easy. I only pay attention so I know when classes, activities, and such are. Though while I'm thinking of it, let me give you the 'keys' to the room so to speak."

So Tristan gave Blaine a brief demonstration on how to operate the room; different lighting settings from night sky (no sun) to day sky (always sun) to real time (time appropriate sun), how to open and close the wards on the room, and what furniture turned into what useful objects and how they could be stored into the wall.

[LionHeart]

"Um. Ground rules. Good idea." Mira covered her confusion (she hoped) by taking a sip of the really excellent latte she had been given, and considered what little she knew of Cubi. The stimulating beverage was, paradoxically, helping her calm down and focus - or possibly it was the effect of being with someone who seemed to be taking things very much in stride. Or both...

"I may need to ask a few questions - Grandma didn't really have a lot of time to fill me in on everything. First off, I guess - eating and sleeping arrangements? I don't know about you, but I'm still at the stage where I need to do both. How are we set up for that?"

[Eli_In_Chains]

Blaine nodded and mostly remained quiet as he watched Tristan go through the motions of showing him how the room worked. It was very clever; the shelves rotating the way they did when lowered into beds was a very interesting notion to him. Perhaps one day he would design his own mechanism to do that; it would definitely be difficult, he was more trained in the arts of joinery and the like than in how to properly design and make mechanical workings, but he figured he was up to the challenge. When the tour seemed to be over and there didn't look like there was much left to be done, Blaine gestured to one of the bookcases. "Now, you've told me how these work, of course, but I am quite curious to know, what do you keep on them? What does a person who lives for hundreds of years find suitable to stock the shelves of his home with?" The fox sat down in a chair, the same one he had earlier fallen asleep in, and put his arms behind his head. "That is, unless you're too busy to take the time to talk about personal matters. I understand if that's the case; it isn't as though I won't get a chance to get to know you later, after all."